


With every single beat of my heart

by FirenzeSun



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, hand holding, this was supposed to be a quick fic but alas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 04:02:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19310221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FirenzeSun/pseuds/FirenzeSun
Summary: After six thousand years of dancing around one another, things have changed. For once, it might be too fast for Crowley.This fic simply explores how years of love and longing resolve themselves now that they're both free of Heaven and Hell.





	With every single beat of my heart

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short fic, but what are a couple of tangents, right?

The world hadn't ended, it had kept spinning, seemingly as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The average ordinary human couldn't tell the changes that foretold the almost-Armageddon that had  _not_  occurred. But then again, most ordinary humans run most of their lives unaware of the world around them, distracted by petty things, living day after day until death came to claim them.

But then again some were more perceptive than others. These people may notice that there was more than this recent wave of odd news. Maybe they felt a sense of deja vu, of the days that happened twice, when a little boy decided his father would be a human. If they walked around the corner of a certain bookshop they might notice a tang of burned paper in a fleeting breeze before it passed away. Or maybe they felt unease about taking the M-25 in a way that it did not relate to traffic.

They could also notice the way four little kids looked at one another. In that complicit way of shared experiences that shifted your understanding of the world and made you even more grateful for your friends. But then again, hardly anyone ever paid attention to kids.

Those particular gifted with an inner eye, might feel the change in the air, more rich in ozone now. Like the smell before a storm, but also afterwards. As if something had descended from the skies, but also something had raised from the underground. The world was a bit more gray now, things were less defined, but also brighter, clearer.

And among all the things that were different in this world but not truly, they might have noticed something peculiar about the two people dining at the Ritz in this particular night. Not because these two particular people were an angel and a demon, no, though this was something peculiar by itself. But rather, in the dynamic they shared. As all of the rest of the things, it was both the same and different.

For you see, this angel and this demon had always been the most important person in each other's lives. That had not changed. Neither had changed their tradition of dining together, they had done so for millenia. What had changed was particularly subtle, but no less significant.

It was how they acknowledged one another. No more running, no more hiding, no more pretending.

But the people at the restaurant did not saw anything noticeable about these two diners, save for the fact that they had been at that table since lunch, they blended in the environment as the rest of the people. Like previously stated, most humans aren't tuned to the shifts and ridges of the universe. It is not strange, then, that the turning tide of the relationship of an angel and a demon went unnoticed. After all, nobody had heard the nightingale in Berkeley Square.

"Did you enjoy dinner, my dear?" Aziraphale asked while they were walking towards where Crowley had parked his car.

Or to be precise, where Aziraphale had miracled the car into place, as Crowley tended to disregard parking rules as well, and that the angel wouldn't avail.

"I did," Crowley answered honestly, and grabbed Aziraphale's hand.

It was not the first time they held hands. During the millenia they had lived, it had occurred in occasion. However, it hadn't been particularly meaningful back then. It had been performatory, out of necessity or some other reason that the situation saw fit. They had never held hands in the way humans did, with an ascribed meaning.

Not until last night when Crowley had took Aziraphale's hand in his while the angel chose to sit for the first time, in the seat right next to him. Not hiding for once that they were traveling in the same direction. It had had meaning that night. It was a promise.

Right now, it was acknowledgement.

Aziraphale smiled at Crowley.

They walked talking softly, continuing the conversation that had been had over dinner. The night was clear, the breeze was a caress. It was only a few blocks to Berkeley Square where the car was, and the walk was pleasant.

When they arrived next to it, neither of them entered the car as they would have done any other night. Instead, they stood next to it facing each other. They still held hands, unwilling to let go just yet. Crowley smiled at Aziraphale, that smile he reserved just for the angel. A smirk too bright to be smug, small enough to be honest.

The way Aziraphale was looking him back was different. There had always been love in his eyes when directed towards Crowley. But there had also always been a barrier. It had once been unawareness, it had recently been fear. But now it was gone, Aziraphale's loving gaze was unguarded.

Their lips met.

It was soft, barely any pressure at all. Just their lips touching each other in a quiet dance.

It was transcendental. Their hearts fluttered, and once more their dynamic continued to shift.

They still fulfilled the same role in each other's life as they had for millenia. But now they were even closer, in this space they have carved from themselves. No Heaven, no Hell, in the middle.

The nightingale sang, but neither heard it, too focused on the feel, the touch of their lips.

"Want a ride, angel?" Crowley said with a smugness he couldn't quite contain when they broke apart.

"Please," Aziraphale answered.

.

Crowley arrived in the morning to take Aziraphale out for breakfast. The previous night, they had both went they separate ways after Crowley had left Aziraphale at the bookshop. They had waited millenia to come together, and there was no longer an end of the world in sight. So they were allowed to go at their own pace. They had no rush.

Nevertheless, before he had been able to get off the car, Crowley had grabbed Aziraphale by the neck and had kissed him. This second kiss had been more loaded, it had the desperation of a person who had known for centuries he was in love.

It had still been brief, once more again, it was more about the promise.

"Goodnight, angel," Crowley had said with a smile that fit his demonic nature.

"Goodnight, Crowley," Aziraphale had answered with a smile quite unfit for an angel.

Now the Bentley was once more unceremoniously parked in front of the bookshop and Crowley charged in with a snap of his fingers. Aziraphale was doing the inventory of the changes that Adam's modification of reality had brought upon when he heard the demon enter. The smile that graced his features when he saw Crowley was still timid, but it was brighter than any other he had sent in his direction.

"Crowley," he exclaimed adoringly and in awe. Things between them had truly not changed, Crowley thought. Aziraphale directed to him with the same love in his voice as he had always done. But then, Aziraphale came closer to give a tiny peck to his lips in greeting, and okay, they had changed.

Crowley blinked to shift back the white in his eyes behind the sunglasses.

"Do you care for some  _croissants_ for breakfast?" Crowley offered extending his arm for Aziraphale to take it.

"Why, Crowley, you do know your way into an angel's heart."

Crowley just smiled criptically at him while Aziraphale took his arm so they could both walk together to the little coffee shop a few blocks away where they were both regulars. It was attended by the descendants of Italians who liked to serve French delicatessen to an English clientele. Such were the beautiful peculiarities of humanity.

"Oh, Mr. Fell, Mr. Crowley," the waitress greeted them when she saw them at their usual spot. She was a college girl, the granddaughter of the original owner. "What can I delight you with this morning, Mr. Fell?"

"Oh, why don't you give me some of those delightful croissants and a green tea, if you would be so kind, Julie."

Julie smiled at him, and though she was a kind woman who smiled at her clients, the smile she directed to Aziraphale was special. It was the kind of smile you direct to a grandparent, or to an old friend from childhood, or to a little kid that looks you in the highway from a passing car. "My pleasure," she said. "And to you, Mr. Crowley? The usual?"

"Yes, thank you," Crowley answered cordially enough.

It should be told, that when talking to the demon her smile barely faltered. It was now the smile you give to a grandparent that still likes to parachute, or to your old partner in crime, or that child that makes faces at you on the street. Julie nodded, and went away to pass their orders.

"So, angel," Crowley begun. This was a conversation that he had been waiting to have for millennia with Aziraphale, but he had not been ready for it, so Crowley had waited. But last night they had kissed, and that changed things. At least some of them. Crowley was willing to wait for another millennia one moment, and he was metaphorically jumping on his feet with anxiety the next one.

"Yes, my dear?"

Crowley, hesitated, did they really had to have this conversation. Things were going well with the things left unsaid. But he knew they owed it to each other. Crowley was about to speak when Julie arrived with their orders, buying him some more time.

"So," he started again, and he was definitely not blushing. Aziraphale was looking at him expectantly while he sipped his tea and then broke a piece of the croissant to take it to his mouth. Crowley loved watching Aziraphale eat, he loved the way that he took his pleasure with his food, how he let the sensations wash him. He was methodical with his eating, composed, assuring to taste everything and squeeze every single drop of pleasure of the experience. Crowley wondered once more, if Aziraphale would be like this too in other pleasures of the flesh. And well, wasn't this the entire matter of hand.

It took a while for Crowley to notice the smirk that had formed in the angel's face while he was staring at him. He knew what he was making to Crowley, where his thoughts had drifted off, the  _bastard_. He knew Aziraphale wasn't making it on purpose, this was truly how he enjoyed his food. But he was enjoying it nevertheless.

It relaxed Crowley, this was still his best friend who he had known for millennia.

"So," Crowley begun for a third time, "I was wondering how often we can engage in activities like last night."

"Oh, I guess as often as we want. But I suppose it we always miracle free tables at the Ritz it would stop being a miracle. We could make a proper reservation next time."

" _Angel_ ," Crowley growled as an amused warning.

Aziraphale was smiling again. The bastard.

But then his smiles softened, and he looked at Crowley in that loving manner that the demon had to admit, he was addicted to. "As often as we want, my dear."

Crowley tried to smile back, but it was tight.

"Something's bothering you," Aziraphale pointed out in that way that meant, " _you can trust me, my friend, out with it_."

Crowley sighed. "I'm afraid we're going too fast, we danced about it for so long, and now it hasn't even been a week."

"You were the one who were insistent on us being in  _our_  own side."

"I know," Crowley hesitated, the yellow in his eyes slightly bigger, though it was hidden under his sunglasses. "It's just- last time-"

_Oh_ , Aziraphale understood now. He knew how Crowley had felt for years, but he had been too scared to do something about it. The way he had felt about Crowley had terrified him, it was too much for an angel to feel about a demon. And Crowley had been waiting for him, had grown accustomed to wait for him, had even found comfort in the way their friendship had settled.

But everything had changed now, everything was still changing and it was scary, of course. Aziraphale however, was no longer afraid about how he felt. He had finally understood the meaning of all this, what truly mattered to him. It was the comfort of being in  _their_  side, the very same Crowley had chosen long ago.

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hand across the table. "My dear, I finally caught up to you. I understood what you meant with,  _our_ side. I'll admit I wasn't ready before, but now that we're free of both Heaven and Hell. Now that we have the rest of our lives until the next Armageddon. I just want this, what I always wanted indeed. For us, together. Am I correct to assume you still want the same?"

Crowley said nothing for a few seconds, and then he brought Aziraphale's hand to his mouth to kiss his knuckles slowly. "You are," he said, and the roughness of his voice belittled the smugness of his actions.

After that, conversation flowed easily between them. When they were done, Aziraphale paid, and thanked Julie for another wonderful breakfast. Crowley said nothing, but he slowed a bit their departure to observe how two tables over a couple of entitled assholes were giving her a hard time. Crowley snapped his fingers so when the assholes were leaving a couple of bills  _accidentally_ fell from their wallets.

Aziraphale smiled when he noticed, but said nothing and instead, locked his arm around Crowley's.

.

They went back to the bookshop, and Crowley stayed with him while Aziraphale catalogued the books and reorganized the space until he was satisfied with it again. He even opened his shop for a few hours, and Crowley remained sitting on a chair, near the till. His presence there had the added bonus of scaring away people who wanted to buy his books. But Aziraphale was just content with his company.

At the end of the day, with all the no-potential clients out, the closed sign on again, and the night falling in, Aziraphale spoke to Crowley. "You could stay tonight."

The night at Crowley's, they had spent most of the day talking, and coming in with their plan. A quiet night just the two of them was something yet to happen to the pair.

"You don't have to go, you can stay," Aziraphale asked, knowing it had as many implications as when Crowley offered it to him.

"I know what you said before, but I still don't want to rush," Crowley admitted. "We have time," he said because he had to believe it.

Aziraphale nodded.

They said goodbye with another soft kiss and Crowley left in his Bentley.

.

The major change in their relationship had been how much time they were allowed to spend together now that they didn't have to keep appearances. Crowley would come by to Aziraphale's bookshop and spend the day there. Other days Aziraphale went to Crowley while he tended to the plants - he liked to whisper sweet things to the plants while Crowley wasn't there, to soothe them. They also went in dates regularly. Granted, it still was going to eat out at different locations like they tended to, but now they were not afraid to call them dates.

However, at the end of the day, they went to separate places. They both sleeped, or laid leisurely depending on whether they did or not feel like sleeping, on their respective places. Aziraphale understood where Crowley was coming from, though he deeply desired to hold the demon next to him. But for now, greetings with a kiss, and the occasional random kiss would have to suffice. It did.

It had been two weeks and a half of this new dynamic, and today Crowley was lingering in his bookshop, and even though the sun had fallen already, he didn't show signs of leaving. Aziraphale was torn between not mentioning anything, so Crowley wouldn't notice it and he would stay, and whether it was morally right and if it wasn't lying by omission.

"You need a plant," Crowley mentioned breaking the silence. "Specially, if I'm gonna spend this much time here."

"I don't know if I have the proper place to put it here."

"Oh, don't be daft, I'll bring a small plant. And it's not like you need my help taking care of it, Mr. Gardener."

"Alright, Mr. Nanny," Aziraphale answered with an amused smile.

Eventually Aziraphale settled on the coach with a book in hand, a new one that had been left by Adam's changes to reality. Crowley was looking at him while he read with the same intense look he gave him when he ate. But after a while, Crowley moved to rest his head on Aziraphale's shoulder. He sighed, and put an arm around the demon's waist, holding him while he continued reading.

A human would have found the position uncomfortable after a while. Their muscles would start tensing. But the advantage of being a celestial being is that, if you ever found yourself in the situation to be cuddling with someone you have loved for six millennia, then you can just miracle your muscles to relax. And that's what Crowley did, unwilling to move from his spot.

In the morning, they went back to Julie's shop to get breakfast. Crowley looked at her for a while, before changing his stare towards the table were the two assholes sat the last time they were here.

"I guess we should start thinking what we're going to do now that we aren't furthering the plans of Heaven and Hell," Crowley finally addressed, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Oh, yes, it has been on my mind too," Aziraphale agreed. "I love tending to my bookshop and there's still many dishes I'd like to try. But I suppose it will soon prove not enough, as the lack of a greater purpose sets in."

"I had fun the other day," Crowley said pointing to the now-assholes-free table. "It was a minor thing, but I reckon we could go bigger next time."

"I think what you're trying to suggest, my dear, is that now we can be freelancers."

"That's one way to put it," Crowley said stretching.

The bells on the door of the shop sounded. "Well, talk about providence," Aziraphale said with a smirk and sipped his tea again while he watched the aforementioned couple of assholes enter the shop again.

Julie huffed, clearly remembering the couple, and then put on a fake smile to greet them. The couple was still rude, and generally unpleasant. And they chatted too loudly, breaking the quiet ambient of the shop. Aziraphale waited until Julie was back behind the counter, before flipping his hand under the table.

The coffee cup the man was drinking became unstable when he put it back down, and it fell on the plate, spilling all of its content - hot coffee- over the man's lap. The man shouted, and grabbed napkins, and made a scene while he tried to remove the coffee from his lap.

" _Angel,_ " Crowley exclaimed surprised but incredibly amused.

Aziraphale's answer was a great big smile. "I believe as celestial freelancers we now have the ability to  _choose_  our assignments, don't we?"

Crowley smiled at him, their eyes locking in complicity. Julie's laugh while the two assholes left the shop served as background music. Crowley left another generous tip when they left.

.

They were back at the bookshop, but Aziraphale hadn't opened. He instead wanted to spend more time with his friend.

"We should do it small," Crowley said. "Maybe work it as a domino, small enough miracles or misdeeds that can pro- pro- propagate! Yes, small actions that can propagate and cause a bigger consequence! But small enough that it can't be traced back to us."

Neither of them had drunk, but Crowley was energized by this new plan of action, and was struggling with words again.

"We should start locally, see what we can champion for the humanity closer to us first," Aziraphale added, coming back with a plate for the small plant Crowley had bought in the way back to the shop.

He then deposited the pot in a shelve, that was free enough of books. When he turned around, Crowley was standing incredibly close to him. Despite the surprise, he smiled, pleased.

"Oh, hello."

" _Angel,_ " Crowley called him, his voice charged.

Aziraphale just kept smiling at him, his eyes full of adoration. Crowley gave up with a growl, he grabbed his neck and pushed him so their lips could meet.

It was a more passionate kiss than the ones they had shared prior. Those had been soft, and loving. But Crowley had clearly been holding back. This time he left nothing behind and was giving him everything. Six millennia of desire, love and frustration.

Aziraphale moaned in delight while he kissed back, and moaned even harder when Crowley's other hand went to his waist to press their bodies together.

"Tell me, if this is too fast. Please, tell me," Crowley begged when they broke apart, his lips red and shining with spit. Reminiscent of an apple that Aziraphale wanted to taste for the rest of eternity.

"No, it's perfect, it's perfect," he panted, and with both hands around his neck, he kissed him again.

This moment had been building forever, and Aziraphale wanted to bury himself in Crowley. One of his hands, traveled downwards, to the demon's ass and pressed him against him, as if there was any air left between them. Crowley hummed what probably was  _angel_. This had been what Aziraphale had fought against for so long, what had truly scared him all those years ago. Not the sexual act in itself, new as it was. No, what had scared him was giving in to this powerful, encompassing desire to become one with another being.

What would happen upon this union? What would happen when an angel and a demon became one? When their essence got so close together that there would be no telling each other apart? Would he lose himself? Would he lose all sense of identity or would he become someone new?

These had been the doubts that had plagued him. But he no longer cared about the answers. Not when he had the most beautiful being in existence in his arms.

"My dear-" Aziraphale gasped into Crowley's ear when the demon moved away from his mouth to kiss his jaw and neck. "Would you- like to take this- upstairs?"

"What kind of question-? Yes, yes, angel, yes," Crowley said pausing his assault on Aziraphale's neck.

They smiled at one another, and walked towards Aziraphale's room holding hands. Being an angel, he didn't need much sleep, he wasn't even one to enjoy sleep that much. But he liked to have the human experience, and he would indulge in it every now and then. He only miracled away the dust that had accumulated in the room for its lack of continued use.

The walk had calmed some of the desperation, but the burning passion was still just below their skin. Aziraphale stopped at the foot of the bed, and turned around to remove Crowley's sunglasses from him. Aziraphale loved Crowley's eyes, he loved the softness in them despite their sharpness.

Crowley smiled that smile of his, the one that he only used on Aziraphale. They kissed again. It was less aggressive than before. It was more like a long shower after a tiring day. They kissed knowing that their essence, their cores were sewing each other together.

They could have miracled the clothes away, but they didn't have a rush and it was fun undressing one another. There was a thrill that came with each new inch of skin revealed.

Aziraphale had made the effort a couple of times in his existence. He liked to explore the pleasures that humanity had to offer, and although, well, pleasant, just as sleeping, it had not been his thing. He loved to read about it, and figuring out how humans related sex to love. He wondered on occasion if that could be true. If love truly enhanced the act of sex. Judging just for the way Crowley's hands felt on his skin, then, yes. It made a world of difference.

Sex hadn't been worth the effort to pursue it more than a handful of times. But right now, as he felt the expanse of Crowley's body against him, skin against kiss. Aziraphale saw himself getting addicted to it.

It wasn't that much different for Crowley.

"Aziraphale," he whispered, he implored.

"Yes," Aziraphale agreed, he felt that same all encompassing loving need. Crowley's hand pushed him towards the bed. They laid side by side at first, until Crowley's hand pushed him again and reaccommodated him over him. "Do you want it like this?" Aziraphale asked, kissing Crowley's jaw, those angles that drove him crazy in a way he had denied for too long, while a hand buried itself in his hair, to direct his head but also to feel it.

"Please, Azira- angel, yes," Crowley keened, and Aziraphale discovered true arousal in the way his friend's broken voice made him shiver.

Crowley had had experience. Plenty of it. He was a demon, and tempting had been his show. He had to understand what the big deal was about sex if he wanted to play humans properly. So he had put the effort, and explored it, study it. But his experience had been almost clinical, it was only when he was around Aziraphale that he truly felt that burning desire.

He was able to play humans perfectly, because he knew what longing was when he looked at Aziraphale. He knew yearning, and hope. And he had an imagination, so he knew what was like to touch himself while picturing somebody else next to him.

He understood desire.

Yet he hadn't been ready for this, for how it would feel to have Aziraphale in his arms. To have his weight securing him against the bed. It felt as close as being under the loving gaze of God could be like for a demon. It felt like forgiveness and benediction.

They kept kissing, their hips moving together and creating friction. Aziraphale's fingers dug hard into the bony meat of Crowley's shoulder, it would have hurt a regular human. Instead it made Crowley feel anchored.

After a while of ruting, of finding pleasure in just the sweet glide of their skin, Aziraphale conjured lube out of thin air and drew their fingers towards Crowley's arse. Upon feeling him there, Crowley opened his legs in a clear invitation for more.

"Angel, fuck,  _angel_ ," Crowley moaned in delight.

It was just his fingers what there were inside of him, but Crowley was already in a new plane of pleasure. Not because of the physical act, no, but because this was the being he had loved for over six thousand years. And he was inside of him, stretching his insides, caressing his prostate.

"You are- Crowley,  _fuck_ , you look-  _perfect_ ," Aziraphale sounded in awe.

Angels are supposed to be beings of love, but looking at Crowley, twisting in pleasure under his own doing, Aziraphale wondered if he had ever understood love before. He couldn't help but thanking God for this moment, for having created Crowley, for he was perfect. He thanked her for allowing this moment. Aziraphale bathed himself in this feeling and allowed love to guide every single one of his movements.

After a particular sharp and accurate thrust, Crowley moaned. "Aziraphale, I need you right now, please."

Had it been with anyone else, Crowley might have felt shame over the way he was begging. But never with him, he had shown Aziraphale every single crevice of his soul.

"Alright," Aziraphale panted, arousal flowing through his veins.

He conjured more lube and distributed it over his cock, before guiding it to push into Crowley. They moaned in unison. Aziraphale went slowly, opening himself a path in Crowley. The tight hold of Crowley on his cock, resembled the tight grip Crowley had in his soul. Aziraphale kissed Crowley because words were not enough to describe how he felt.

He started moving slowly, and it was already too much. Crowley eyes were wide, no white, barely any yellow left and the black was almost a circle. Which each thrust, each slide, their souls entangled more together. The core of the angel and the demon mixing into something else. Something less divine, less demonic, more human.

Crowley was repeating a litany of the angel's name. "Aziraphale, Aziraphale," each time as if it was a prayer.

Aziraphale begun laughing. It was mixed with moans but it was laughing all the same. He laughed in joy and happiness.

"Angel, I swear to- if you're laughing at me-" Crowley scowled, but it carried no weight as everytime he threatened him.

"I'm not, my dear," Aziraphale answered with a big grin. "I'm just- incredibly happy."

Crowley softened at that, and smiled back at him.

"I am too," he said and kissed him. It was as soft as their first kiss, but this time it was not a promise, for promises lie in the future. This was all about the present.

Soon, they were reaching their peak together and it was a crescendo.

"Crowley, you need to hear it, you need to know it," Aziraphale panted, barely able to keep his eyes open but this was important.

"Say it," Crowley commanded.

"I love you," he confessed. "I love you so much."

Crowley moaned in what was basically a sob. "I love you too, angel, for so long," he cried.

Aziraphale was right on the edge, and it felt as if when he tipped over he was going to fall. But they were here, in the middle, nor Heaven nor Hell but Earth, so he didn't care about falling as long as he had Crowley with him.

He came with a shout. He did not fell but quite the contrary, it was like flying. Crowley ondulated under him, while he orgasmed.

As their breathings, normalized Aziraphale kissed Crowley once and then removed himself and fell to a side. He clung to Crowley, unwilling to let go of their physical contact.

The air in the room smelled like change. Like once more something had shifted in their relationship with this simple act. It had, but it also hadn't. This was another thing they had experimented together, like oysters and crepes.

But their essences were definitely closer. They had gravitated towards one another for six millennia, who knew how much more closer they would get.

.

Marie parked in a rush, knowing she was already running late and cursing herself for it. She rang the school to let them know she was finally here. She was an hour late to pick up Charlie, if would have been more if it wasn't for the kind stranger who helped her fix her car.

The teacher let her in with a disapproving look but she paid to it not mind, being a single mother meant many disapproving looks. You learn to ignore most of them.

"Charlie! I'm so sorry, my car broke down!" she apologized to her son.

"It's okay, Ben is here too so we played together," Charlie said nonchalantly. Despite being only nine years old, Charlie was a kind intelligent boy. He knew that his mother did her best, she always looked so busy. But he was sure of her love and that was what mattered.

Marie looked at Ben, unlike Charlie, he seemed affected to be left behind. "Hey, Charlie, why don't you ask Ben if he wants to come with us to play? Maybe even have a sleepover?"

The boy's features brightened, and Marie's heart broke a bit. She then left the boys for a second to arrange with the school authorities being allowed to pick up Ben. It shouldn't be hard as it wasn't the first time it had happened.

Later, the three of them were back on the street, the kids lost in their games already while Mary picked the shopping bags from the backseat into the trunk to make room for the two kids. She wasn't sure, but she could swear that she had more stuff than what she originally bought. But her mind got distracted by Ben's laughter, and it wasn't such an important train of thought after all.

The boy's laugh was sweet, and just for today, he would not go back to his big but cold house, and for one day he would not hear his parents screaming at each other, or his father angry reclamations or her mother's cold indifference. It was just a day, but it made all the difference to a little boy.

It may still not play a long difference in the long run. Maybe going to his best friend's home, and know the love of a mother for a day wouldn't change his feature. Maybe in five years time he would still experiment the cursed bliss of alcohol, and he'd know a drug haze by the age of sixteen. Maybe he'd still grow up in the rich kid who got away with way too many DUI until the one that proved fatal for him.

But maybe, just maybe, this one day that he was going to a loving place would make the difference. And when things turned too much he would turn to Ms. Marie, who would comfort him and embrace him. And when he grew older, he would convince Charlie to go to college with him. His father's money proving good for something. And maybe, after they both graduated, while they were both looking what to do next with life, Ben would propose to Charlie, maybe he would have a happy life and do good with his father's company.

Maybe.

Right now, he would just go home with his best friend's mom who by a miracle had arrived late enough to see him waiting, but not too late.

From a distance, unknown to Marie, the stranger was watching them with a soft smile on his lips.

"You know, people might find it creepy having an adult man observing school's grounds," a voice slided behind the stranger.

"Oh, shut up you," Aziraphale complained but his smile only got bigger. He turned towards his companion, "so, how did your intervention go?"

"Oh, that car won't be working for a week at least," Crowley explained holding Aziraphale's hand while they walked towards the Bentley, "and he definitely missed the assembly. I guess, it'll be a year at least until they try to pass the straw ban again. It's a good day for littering," but he didn't fool Aziraphale, not that he needed to.

"We need a place for your plants," Aziraphale claimed while they were climbing onto the Bentley.

Crowley froze for a second, gathering strength to say what he wanted out loud. He still needed more practice. Aziraphale was willing to let him. "I was thinking of a place with a garden."

Aziraphale smiled. "That would be lovely, my dear."

"Oh, shut up, angel," Crowley scowled, but he drove with a small smile gracing his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy it. This took me to explore more of what Crowley and Aziraphale might do now, in the aftermath, that I originally intended, and in the end I end up exploring more of this murky weird middle ground that is Earth and humanity.  
> I really hope you guys like it!  
> I love my Innefable Husbands so much y'all.


End file.
